The Nightmare
by owlcroft
Summary: A scene set after "Hate the Picture, Love the Frame". This is not written by me, Owlcroft, but by a new writer. I will be forwarding her your reviews/comments.


N/A/N(Non-Author's Note): This is not by me, Owlcroft, but by a new author who can't sign onto this site. There may be more stories from her, posted by me.

"The Nightmare"

By MKH26

Looking back, Hardcastle didn't know how it all began. He remembered it was a beautiful, sunny day like it nearly always was at Gull's Way.

The day started off as usual, him having breakfast in the den, and McCormick starting his daily chores.

Thinking back, he should've realized something was off when Mark refused any breakfast for himself. The kid nearly ate Hardcastle out of house and home. But for the past couple of days he'd seemed to have lost his appetite. Not normal for the kid.

And Hardcastle got the distinct feeling that McCormick was on the brink of wanting to tell the judge something. Something important. The kid must've broken something again and was afraid to tell the ol' donkey about it.

Yeah, that must be it, Hardcastle surmised as he turned the page of the morning paper. The kid had been following him like a lost puppy, around every corner. But when the judge would look up at Mark, as if to give him permission or at least an opening to confront the judge about whatever he wanted to talk to him about, Mark suddenly became scarce, using any excuse to get away from the judge.

Hmm, he must have really screwed up something big, Hardcastle thought. He'd never been this scared to talk to me before, about anything. Maybe he scratched the 'Vette? I'll kill 'em, Hardcastle thought. I'll listen to his explanation, then I'll kill 'em…

He knew Mark would break and tell him eventually, they didn't keep secrets from each other. Until now, it seemed.

Hardcastle sighed, sipping at his coffee that was, by now, lukewarm. Damn.

Just as he was getting up to top his coffee off, Mark came around the corner.

Maybe now, the judge thought, mentally preparing himself for whatever problem lay ahead. He had NO idea…

It was then that the doorbell rang.

"Who can that be at this time of the morning?" he asked Mark.

But Mark had gulped audibly as he whipped his head around to the front door. Was it Hardcastle's imagination, or did the kid just suddenly turn white as a sheet? Great. Probably the cops, Hardcastle thought bitterly. Kid must've broken the law, probably another speeding ticket… Hardcase felt his blood boil.

"McCormick, what did you do?"

But Mark had made his way, shakily, to the front door. The judge could swear the kid's hand was shaking as he reached for the doorknob. What the hell was going on? Just how much trouble was the kid in?

Four very important looking suits entered the doorway and led Mark down into the den.

"Can I help you fellas?", the judge pasted on his best smile, trying to break the sudden tension.

"Judge Milton C. Hardcastle?" the lead suit asked in a stern voice, handing a paper to Hardcase.

"Yeah, that's me," he answered, eyeing the groups suspiciously, but mostly Mark, who looked as though he'd pass dead away. 'What'd the kid do now?"

"Judge…" Mark began, but stopped short at the stern look he got from Hardcastle. Mark swallowed hard again.

The main suit turned to McCormick and produced a glistening set of handcuffs.

"Mark McCormick, you're under arrest," as the man turned Mark around viciously and clamped the cuffs tightly around his wrists. He began to read the Miranda rights to the now visibly shaking kid.

Hardcastle frowned. "What the hell is going on here?" his voice boomed, setting down his cup of coffee hard enough to crack it, tossing the paper on a table. "If this is someone's idea of a joke, it's NOT funny!"

"No joke, Judge," Mark said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I've been trying to tell you for the past couple 'a days now." He turned to the suit with an angry scowl on his face. "I was supposed to have another day yet…" he spat accusingly.

"What's he under arrest for?", the judge asked, ignoring Mark.

"You haven't told him?" the suit asked Mark.

"Didn't get the chance…" Mark stared down at the floor.

"McCormick?", the judge asked, moving over to stand in front of Mark. He didn't know whether to punch him or hug him, the kid was now shaking and sweating and looked about two seconds from fainting dead away.

Mark took in a deep breath, looked the judge in the eyes and began to explain.

"Made a deal with the devil… the Feds,." he began, licking the beads of sweat from his upper lip. "Guess they never much liked me being out of prison to begin with," he chuckled nervously, but Hardcastle saw no humor in his eyes.

Clearing his voice, he continued.

"Anyway, with these charges of murder over your head, they offered me a deal," referring to the recent happenings of someone trying to frame the judge for murder when he and Mark came home to find a dead woman in the judge's den, shot with the judge's own gun.

"Deal? What deal? What are you talking about, McCormick?" the judge was now yelling. "That was all worked out!"

"Not really," Mark shrugged. "Seems you've got a lot of enemies around, Judge. Anyway, the Feds offered me a deal, in return for dropping the murder charges against you and the whole ugly matter swept under the rug…" Mark took another deep breath and looked into the Judge's eyes, Mark's own eyes now brimming with tears. "… I got some new permanent accommodations. Quentin…" his voice trailed off.

The judge just about fainted away.

"You mean…"

"Yep, you finally got me back in prison," Mark chucked nervously.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?", the judge whispered, moving even closer to stand in front of his friend.

"I tried to," Mark shrugged. "Kinda' hard subject to bring up. I was supposed to have another day to explain it all to you," he looked accusingly at the suits. "I just didn't know how…"

"Ready, McCormick?" the main suit asked, tugging on the cuffs on Mark's wrists.

"Can I have a second?" Mark pleaded. "Please?"

With a sigh, the suit backed away. "Make it quick."

Mark turned back to Hardcastle.

"I'm so sorry, Judge. I didn't mean for this to go down this way. Probably for the best, though, huh? Neither of us like soapy scenes. Gonna' miss our late night one on one b-ball, our pulse rate bets… hell, I'll even miss our John Wayne marathons."

"Just wanted to tell you thanks, Judge, for everything. Taking me in when no one else would… for believing in me. Lord knows no one else ever did that, either. You've taught me so much, I'll never forget my time here with you. You have to know, not only are you my best friend, but the father I never had. Thank you for all that. Take care of the Coyote, she'll take care of you. When you take her our for a spin, think of ol' Skid, huh?" By now, tears were running down his face.

"Promise me you won't keep up the whole Lone Ranger thing, not without Tonto. .." Mark's voice was now catching. "I don't want to have to worry about you getting shot up."

"Please take care of yourself for me. Write once in a while to let me know how you're doing. Maybe even come visit me? I could sure stand to see a friendly face…"

"Enough," the main suit interjected, moving forward to grab the cuffs around Mark's wrists. "Time to go."

By now the judge, too, had tears in his eyes, realizing this was no joke. Not even McCormick could be so cruel to pull such a sick joke. The kid was giving up his freedom to willingly go back to prison, all for the judge.

"Mark…" the judge whispered, putting a hand out to tenderly touch Mark's curls. How the judge always ragged on him about getting a haircut… and now he'd never see or touch those unruly curls again? See or touch Mark's face? Never hear that infectious laugh?

"It's a done deal, Judge, signed the papers and everything." Mark tried to smile. "I'm sorry, Judge, I'm so sorry. But it's all for the best…" he said, leaning into the Judge's touch on his hair. God, how he'd miss this man…

As he was being led away, Mark turned and mouthed the words, "I love you" to Hardcastle, who hitched a sob of his own. A minute ago everything was normal, him eating breakfast, Mark starting his chores. Later they'd go through the next file on their next case out by the pool. The Lone Ranger and Tonto. And now Tonto was being led away, forever. Tonto. Mark. His son and best friend…

"Wait!" Hardcastle shouted, following behind. "You can't do this! The kid has nothing to say about it all, he's in my custody!" But it was all to no avail. He fell to his knees in the drive as he watched the suits toss Mark into the back of their official-looking SUV, Mark turning around once more to get one last look at his best friend, his dad… Mark tried to smile and wink, tears still running down his face, but Hardcastle could see the terror in Mark's eyes. He was going back to the house of many doors, the place he hated the most, where Hardcastle already knew he didn't belong… he was sacrificing the rest of his life for Hardcastle's freedom… the damn fool kid!

"MARK!", the judge literally screamed his name as the van sped away, down the drive, around the corner, gone forever… forever… he'd never see Mark's face again…

"MARK!", the judge screamed out. "NO!" Only he wasn't on his knees in the driveway anymore, he was thrashing around on the sofa in his den, screaming Mark's name out, over and over again. It had only been a terrible nightmare, it HAD to be. It couldn't possibly be real… could it?

At hearing his name being shouted, Mark came running from the other end of the house, where he was doing the dishes in the kitchen. That was the judge! He knew he'd gone to the den to take a nap on the sofa, but now the Judge was screaming Mark's name, over and over. And to Mark, the Judge sounded terrified… was he having a heart attack? Did someone break in?

Mark dropped the plate back into the soapy water with a splash, wiping his wet hands on his jeans and sweater as he ran, full force, to the den, jumping over the stairs to land hard on the floor where he slid over to the sofa. "Judge!" he shouted to be heard above Hardcase's screams.

The Judge was indeed having a nightmare, still screaming out Mark's name, screaming "NO!" and "COME BACK!".

Mark sat on the sofa by the Judge's legs and reached out to grab the Judge's shoulders.

"Judge!" he shouted to be heard over Hardcase. "Hey! Hey, wake up!", he shook the judge's shoulders.

The judge still shouted out Mark's name but was starting to come around and wake up slowly. He opened his eyes and blinked hard, trying to gain his bearings. He wasn't out in the drive anymore, he was lying on the sofa in the den, sweat rolling down his face. And as his vision came into focus, he could see someone in front of him, leaning over him, concern on his face.

McCormick? Mark?

No, couldn't be, the Feds drove him off, took him away from Gull's Way forever. From him. Didn't they?

But as his vision cleared, he could see a very concerned, frowning Mark sitting next to him, gripping his shoulders.

"Mark?"

"Judge?"

"You're here…"

"Course I am, where else would I be?"

The judge panted, trying to catch his breath as he wiped his sweaty brow.

"On your way to Quentin…" he answered.

Mark sat back. "What?!" he stammered. "What're you talking about?"

And with that, the judge proceeded to explain his nightmare to McCormick, who listened unbelievingly.

"I did that for you?" Mark asked, wide eyed. "I mean, I know I'm an incredibly unselfish person, Judge, but to offer going back to prison…" he shuddered. Then he looked pensive as he bit his lower lip in thought.

"Then again, if it meant your freedom from a murder rap… guess I would do it for you," his voice trailed off as he looked up into the judge's eyes.

"You serious?" Hardcastle frowned. "You'd really do that for me?"

Mark shrugged. "Hey, Tonto is a pretty neat guy. Someone's gotta save the Lone Ranger's ass every now and then."

The judge snickered. "Now you're cookin'!" he grinned.

Mark patted the judge's legs and laughed. "Yeah, guess so. Speaking of cooking, I'll start dinner for us pretty soon…" he began to stand up, but fell back when the judge grabbed his hand.

"Hey, kiddo," he began seriously. "I know you'd do something like that for me, and it makes me so proud to know you'd sacrifice so much for me. You're a great best friend… son."

Mark began to blush and looked away, smiling.

"But kid, you ever do something so stupid like that without telling me, I'll kill ya.," he warned, pointing his finger.

Mark raised his eyes, now glistening with tears.

"'Kay", he whispered, tightening his grip on the judge's hand.

"And Mark?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you, too."

Finis


End file.
